Gone Again
by forensicpathologistninja
Summary: Booth comforts Brennan when she's faced with a tragedy. But is it really what it seems? Rated M for possible later chapters. I don't own Bones, and I only own half my brain, so I'll probably forget to repeat this in every chapter.
1. Chapter 1

"Booth, I still don't understand why you won't let me have a gun of my own!" Dr. Temperance Brennan cried, exasperated.

"Bones, we've been over this, I'm your gun. You don't need one!" Booth yelled. He'd already been having a bad day because Rebecca wouldn't let him have Parker this weekend, and when Brennan had started up this same old argument on their way back from their most recent crime scene, it took everything in him not to kick her out of the car and drive off without her.

Stopping at a red light, he looked over to shoot her an angry look, but when he saw the slightly hurt look on her face, he felt a little guilty and changed tactics. "Besides, Bones, I'm a little worried about you shooting me…" he said, giving her a forced charm smile.

"Booth, that's ridiculous, I'm an excellent marksman," Brennan replied, clearly not ready to let this one go.

"Did I saw anything about it being an accident?" Booth smirked, "I'm worried about you getting mad and shooting me on purpose!"

He shot her another charm smile, and this time he got the desired effect. Brennan chuckled a little, but any response she might have given him was cut off by her phone ringing. She looked at it, frowned a little, and then answered the call as they pulled into the parking lot of the Jeffersonian.

"Hello? Yes, it is…" she said as she entered the Jeffersonian and headed towards her office Booth followed her, a little concerned by the fact that she seemed so confused about the caller

"Yes… I am… I – oh…" suddenly the look on her face changed from confusion to shock, as the phone fell from her hand and hit the floor with enough force to send the battery spinning away from it. For a second, Brennan stood completely frozen, staring at the phone, as if she couldn't believe she'd just dropped it. Then she collected herself, picked up the phone and walked into her office calmly, closing the door behind her.

Booth watched her carefully, knowing that though she looked calm on the outside, she was really struggling to compartmentalize whatever it was that had just happened. He looked down, noting that she'd taken her phone, but not the battery, and picked it up. He was getting ready to go into her office when she came storming out, face expressionless, but eyes slightly panicked.

"Bones?" He queried, but she walked right past him as if he wasn't even there. After a moment he ran after her, catching up with her on the forensics platform.

"Bones…" He tried again. She ignored him, but he could see that she was forcing herself to breathe normally and focus on her work.

"Bones!" This time it wasn't a question at all, it was a command, but she still wouldn't look at him, instead staring down at the human jigsaw before her. By now she was gasping for air and clutching the table for support, her knuckles white with the effort.

"I-I need to reconstruct this s-s-skeleton, Booth!" she said, her voice pitched so high it was almost painful to hear. Booth stepped closer, so he was standing close enough to touch her.

"Temperance, look at me," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. Her breath was coming in short pained gasps between her gritted teeth, and Booth could see that she was going to break down any second. Angela, who had been on the platform talking to Hodgins when they arrived now walked over and said "Bren, sweetie, what's going on?"

At her words, a small sob escaped Brennan's lips, and she jumped away from the metal table with a look of absolute panic on her face. The moment she no longer had the table for support, the strongest woman any of those in the room had ever met crumpled into a sobbing heap on the floor.

"BONES!" Booth cried, bending down and gathering her struggling form against his chest. "What's wrong, Bones, tell me what happened." His voice left no room for argument, but Brennan didn't answer. As soon as she opened her mouth, a high pitched whine tore from her throat, followed by a frantic gasp for air. Her hand reached up to grab Booth's arm so tightly he winced, and did the only thing he could do for her; squeeze her closer to his body and take her back to her office, leaving a stunned Angela and Hodgins to stare after them.

"Can't… breathe… eeee… heee…" she gasped out, staring up at him with terror filled eyes.

"I know, hon, you're having a panic attack." Booth said gently as he set her on her couch. He pulled his arm away from her grasp, but quickly replaced it with his hands to prevent her from further panic. He was frustrated beyond belief not knowing what was causing her pain, but decided to take care of the immediate problem before pressing her for details. "Temperance, look in my eyes, and breathe. In… Out… In… Out…"

After a moment, she seemed to calm down, but then turned her head to the side and started crying in earnest, sobs ripping from her throat in a manner that was so totally un-Temperance Brennan that it almost scared Booth. He sat beside her on the sofa and pulled her into his arms, enveloping her body in a warm hug. His thumb traced comforting circles on her back and he whispered meaningless phrases in her ear while he waited for her sobs to die down.

"What is it, Bones, what happened?" Booth finally asked when she was a little calmer.

"Russ…" she managed, her voice breaking. "He… he… uh…" she was sobbing again, but managed to get her next sentence out between sobs. "He… sob… k—k—killed… sob… himself."


	2. Chapter 2

She let him hold her for a moment longer, clutching him to her like a lifejacket. Then, without warning, she pushed herself away from him, bent over the sofa to the trashcan, and threw up everything she'd eaten that day. Booth reacted quickly, hooking his arm around her and pulling her into a more comfortable position. As soon as she lifted her head, he grabbed the trashcan and brought it around to the front of the couch, then helped her into a sitting position. Her body was shaking wildly and she was again gasping for breath.

"Breathe, Temperance," he told her. "Just breathe." She bent over the trashcan as a second wave of nausea hit her and continued vomiting. After a few more minutes of this, Booth was getting very worried, and when she'd emptied her stomach but continued to dry heave, he decided it was time to call an ambulance. She'd kill him for it later, but right now they needed a doctor to get this under control. Just as he pulled out his phone, Cam walked into the office, a worried look on her face. Obviously one of the squints had told her about Brennan's earlier scene.

"Dr. Brennan?" she questioned, but when she saw that the anthropologist was in no condition to answer, she turned to Booth.

"What happened, Seeley?" she said, her voice more serious than he'd ever heard it.

After a concerned glance at his Bones, he decided she could kill him for this later. "Russ killed himself, Cam. She's having a panic attack… this is the second one in the last hour! Do you think you can do anything for her?" he asked.

Cam recovered from her shock quickly, then responded with a slow nod. "I still have some stuff in my bag. Let me see if I've got anything that might help her."

She returned a couple minutes later with a bottle and syringe in hand. "Dr. Brennan," she said soothingly to the woman still sobbing and retching over the trashcan, "I'm going to give you a shot of Diazapam to help you calm down." She readied the needle, and looked at Brennan with a worried expression marring her features. "Seeley, I'm not sure she heard me. I need you to hold her tightly so she can't jerk around when I prick her."

Booth did as he was instructed, and was glad for Cam's foresight when the needle slid under Brennan's skin and the anthropologist screamed and started struggling against him with all her might. The screaming made her heaving even worse and she gagged so hard her face started turning purple. Alarmed, Booth frantically started rubbing her back, and watched, helpless for the few minutes it took for the sedative to kick in. Then the woman in his arms calmed and slumped against him.

Booth just held her until she was completely asleep, then picking her up in his arms, he stood and started for the door. With a look back at Cam, he said "I'm going to take her home now. Get Zack and the squints to do what they can on this case. We'll worry about the rest tomorrow, after I've had time to get things sorted out."

Cam nodded and walked out of the office after him, carrying Brennan's coat and purse. Before Booth could leave the Jeffersonian, Cam called his name.

"Booth! You need to wrap her up before you take her outside. She's sedated – which means she can't regulate her body temperature as well. And it's raining pretty hard out there." Booth stopped and let Cam cover his Bones with the coat, took the purse from her, and walked into the freezing rain.

After they were both bucked securely into his truck, he looked over at the one woman that meant more to him than anything, and smiled sadly. "We'll get through this, Bones," he promised her sleeping figure as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Then he straightened and started the car, glad that she hadn't been awake to hear him make a promise he wasn't sure he could keep.

Equally glad that she couldn't see the tears in his own eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

*****So… if anyone has helpful information to offer about how to use this site, or how to make my stories better, I'd really like to hear about it… I'm real new to this thing… and I can barely find my way around. Hope you guys like my stories!*****

*****For those of you obsessed with the chronology of this series, this is going to screw with your mind, as I'm sure I'll mention instances from season 4, but I'm thinking I'm going to have Zack still sane and working with the team.*****

*****Juliet, I hope you keep reading because it's always nice to have constructive criticism… after re-reading what I'd written, I realized that Brennan's reaction seemed to be something we'd be more likely to see if she'd undergone months of psychological torture, not the death of a semi-estranged brother… But I plan on fixing things, I think… *EVIL GRIN******

Brennan awoke in her bed, confused as to how she got there and why she was wearing the shorts she usually ran in instead of her normal pajama pants. She stared up at the ceiling, cataloging all the aches in her body. Massive headache, stomachache and slight nausea, burning eyes, and every muscle in her body felt weak and achy, as if someone had taken a meat tenderizer to them.

Sighing, she turned to see what time it was, and almost had a heart attack when she saw that it was nearly 10 am. She leapt out of bed, and nearly collapsed as the world swam before her eyes. She most decidedly did not feel well at all. She groaned and went to the kitchen to make her morning coffee, deciding that she'd just take the usual amount of time to ready herself and show up at work late. It's not like she'd ever been late before, so Cam couldn't be too mad. As she thought this, something nagged at the back of her mind and she was briefly overcome with a blinding sense of panic, but then it was gone and she was left with only the vague feeling that something was very wrong.

As Brennan stood in her kitchen, trying to figure out what it could be, her front door opened, and Booth walked in, carrying bags of groceries and a box of doughnuts. Seeing her in the doorway of her kitchen brought a sad smile to his face. "Hey Bones, ready for some breakfast?"

And as he said those words, she remembered what was bothering her so much.

"Russ," she whimpered, tears forming in her eyes.

Booth dropped the bags and box on her table and had her wrapped in his arms in a second. "Bones, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I know you're going to want to analyze everything about this, but first you need to eat something and rest. You're not going to work for the rest of the week, and the lawyer said that you don't have to worry about the estate and funeral plans for a couple days. I would guess that Amy will want to see you before then, so let's eat, then you can call her."

At his last words, Brennan's eyes spilled over and she shook her head, not looking at him.

"C'mon, Bones. Don't argue with me. You've got to eat something…"

He was cut off by her soft voice "Amy isn't going to talk to me, Booth," she said into Booth's chest. Drawing a shaky breath she continued. "Russ shot her and the girls before he hung himself."

Booth stood in shock. Then, sensing that there was still more that she wasn't telling him, he pulled her just far enough away from him that he could look into her eyes. "What else, Bones?"

"There was a note… I… Booth, he blames it all on me! There was more to the note, but I dropped the phone and the call ended when the battery fell out. I don't want to know what else he said to me. I – I'm scared." After her speech, she felt drained of all her energy, and laid her aching head on Booth's chest, closing her eyes.

Though still in shock, Booth instinctively hugged her close, rubbing circles along her back with his hand. Remembering that they still had not eaten, he carried her to the couch and set her down, leaving her only to get their food. He focused all his thoughts on getting food into both of them. The bigger problem seemed like too much to focus on, at least for now.

Brennan just stared at the open box of doughnuts, too exhausted to be hungry. Booth ate one doughnut and half of another before he could make his mind focus on something other than the food. Then his mind reminded him that he had to protect her, and take care of her. The same two things he'd been doing since he met his Bones.

"Bones, you have to eat… here, try a chocolate one," he said, picking up the doughnut and holding it out to her. After what seemed like decades, she finally reached out and took it. She picked a tiny piece from the outside and ate it, while he watched. He kept watching until she'd eaten the whole thing.

Just as Booth was getting up the courage to ask Brennan about the note, his phone rang. It was Cam.

"Cam, this better be good."

"Seeley, I think you need to bring Dr. Brennan to the lab," the medical examiner answered.

"Cam! I am not bringing her to work! Did you not hear me when –"

"I heard you fine, Seeley, but there are some things she needs to know about the crime scene where they found her brother's body."

"What, Cam, it's not a crime scene, it was a suicide…" Booth said with growing unease.

"It is now, Seeley. One of the cops on scene thought there was something off so he had us run the prints on that note to Brennan. None of them belonged to Russ. They matched the prints from 10 unsolved homicide cases." Cam gave it a moment for this information to sink in. "Russ didn't kill himself, Seeley, he was murdered. And according to the bloody message in Amy's hand, Brennan is next."


	4. Chapter 4

***Okay, so the hanging method the killer used on Russ… I don't remember what show I got that from, but I think it was CSI… intriguing, though, and I've always wanted to use it… I figure this is the only legal way I can do that ;-)***

"Okay, Cam," Booth seethed as he strode up the steps to the Jeffersonian Medico-Lab Platform. "Care to tell me _why_ no one noticed that Amy was holding a note before now? That would have saved us a whole lot of trouble!"

When he'd told Brennan the news, she hadn't given him the reaction he'd expected. Instead of looking scared or relieved or angry, all of which he could justify, she just looked depressed. Not even a normal sad look. There was no emotion in her face, and her eyes were hollow, as if she wasn't even there. When he'd told her she had to come with him to the lab, she'd almost begged him to just let her stay and sleep, but with a killer on the loose, he wasn't having it. But he did have to admit that her actually admitting that she wanted to sleep instead of going to the lab was a little unsettling.

"Where is Dr. Brennan, Seeley?" Cam asked him, not bothering to answer his previous question. How should she know how the investigators had missed the note?

At this question, Booth whipped around, alarmed that Brennan wasn't close enough for Cam to see, since this meant that she was also too far away from him. But he sighed with relief when Hodgins tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to Brennan's office.

"Angela took her to lie down on the couch, G-man. Said she looked much too tired to be allowed near evidence."

Booth nodded and turned his attention back to Cam. "Okay, so what else have you found, Cam?"

Cam sighed. "Well, there's evidence that Amy and the girls were drugged with ketamine, and lots of it. So much that they were all dead before being shot. But the stuff in Russ's system wasn't as strong. Just enough to keep him knocked out for a while, though he was probably still asleep by the time he died."

Booth looked confused. "By the time he died? Cam, isn't hanging a pretty quick death? Any sedative would last longer than that…"

"Oh, yes, I'd forgotten you weren't there. There was evidence of H2O underneath Russ – pure water. Enough to form an ice block about 3 square feet… Booth, that bastard hung him slowly… if he'd held Russ and then dropped him after attaching the rope, the rate of decomp of the body would have alerted people much faster. The twine used to hang him was pretty thin, it would have sliced his neck open more, and everyone knows blood increases decomp. As it is, there wasn't much blood, since it lacerated his neck very slowly."

"Cam, what about the girls? They were shot, how did their bodies not decompose as quickly?"

"Booth…" She hesitated. "The killer kept them drugged for a couple days. He lived in the house with them, drugging them whenever they started to wake up, and he… He raped them. All the girls. I don't think he plans to change his MO if he catches Brennan. There was also a strange lack of blood at the scene… almost like he'd cleaned up after himself."

Booth ground his teeth in anger. Suddenly letting Brennan and Angela leave his sight to go to her office seemed like a very bad idea.

The silence in the lab was broken by a scream, coming from Brennan's office.

'Yes,' Booth thought, as he took the stairs two at a time. 'A very bad idea indeed.'

Booth ran up the steps, berating himself for not making Brennan stay with him, but when he went into her office, what he saw stopped him dead in his tracks.

Brennan was standing, pale-faced, next to a shocked Angela, looking at something in her desk drawer. But that wasn't what scared Booth.

Angela was covered in blood.

*** So how do we feel about this? Too dramatic? Too much too soon? Lemme know, since I'm not even sure where this is going…***


	5. Chapter 5

_Booth ran up the steps, berating himself for not making Brennan stay with him, but when he went into her office, what he saw stopped him dead in his tracks._

_Brennan was standing, pale-faced, next to a shocked Angela, looking at something in her desk drawer. But that wasn't what scared Booth._

_Angela was covered in blood._

A second glance told Booth that it couldn't be as bad as it looked, since there was so much blood and yet both women were standing tall, looking really no worse for wear.

"Bones?" He asked, striding over to see what they were staring at. Inside Brennan's desk was a tin, like one would find at a store filled with popcorn or other goodies. But this one had clearly not been filled with the usual stuff. Inside the tin was what looked like a bloody bag, and Booth reached out to take it.

"BOOTH!" Brennan slapped his hands away. "You can't touch that, you'll contaminate the evidence!"

But his presence brought them out of their shocked stupor, and suddenly Brennan was all business. She told Angela not to move, and ran to get the camera. After photographing Angela, the desk, the bag, and everything else she could think of, she put the camera down and handed Angela a few evidence bags.

"I'm sorry Ange," she said, "but your clothes…"

"Oh, you can keep them. And then when you're done with them, you can burn them. Because I'm _never_ wearing this outfit again." The unhappy artist said as she left to change out of her bloodied clothes.

Brennan was busy putting the tin and the bag into evidence bags to be processed by Cam, when her phone went off. She looked at Booth. "Could you get that?" she asked him, but he was already opening her phone.

A text message from an unknown number. Booth opened it, and decided to read it before telling her what it said. And after he read it, he was glad he did.

_Did you like my present, Joy?_

Booth stared at the message, wondering if this was good or bad. Good because this provided them with something of a lead by eliminating everyone who wasn't aware of Brennan's birth name. Bad because it meant the bastard had eyes and ears inside her office. Even worse because it meant he'd actually been inside her office, to plant the bag.

"Booth, what did it say?"

Booth held up the phone to let her read it, and Brennan's face went pale, then her expression changed from scared to curious to confused.

"He's someone who knows about my parents…" she gasped "My Dad, we don't know where he is!" she yelled.

Cam had come in to get the evidence bags, and upon hearing this, stopped in her tracks. "Wasn't he supposed to be at work today?" She said, turning around slowly.

Booth nodded. "I was going to bring Parker by this afternoon to see him." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Cullen's office. "Sir, we need to find Max Keenan. Send a team to his house to check for him, and put a BOLO out on his car. His son was murdered and now he's not at work, where he ought to be. I also need a protection detail on Dr. Brennan's house and office at all times. The bastard managed to get in her office without anyone seeing him."

Cam and Brennan couldn't hear Cullen's side of the conversation, but he presumably agreed, because Booth said "Thanks, sir, I will."

Turning to Cam he said "I need an ID on that blood, and I want a trace on Bones's phone. I need to know if this guy was stupid enough to use something other than a pre-paid. I also need to know if he contacts her again. So we're going to get that taken care of. I'll send in a team to sweep the office and your house for bugs, Bones. Come with me."

Brennan protested, saying that she'd be much more useful in the lab, but Booth wasn't taking no for an answer. "Bones, I'm not letting you out of my sight until we catch this guy. Now come on."

And for once, Brennan actually stopped arguing and followed him.

Booth looked at her as she walked beside him. She was acting more like herself, but he could still tell that she was shaken from everything that was going on. As soon as they caught this bastard, he was taking her on a vacation, he decided. As much as she'd protest, he knew she needed to get away for a while.


	6. Chapter 6

Despite Booth's hopes about the phone, there was no such luck. The number was linked to a pre-paid cell phone, paid for in cash. Even the guy who sold it couldn't be contacted. He was some old man who worked at a gas station. Or at least, he had worked at a gas station until he'd died, a week ago of a heart attack. A heart attack which, though inconvenient, wasn't suspicious in the least.

"Damn!" Booth swore. At least in other cases they'd be able to question the salesman and get a face on this guy. But now, when it was his Bones at stake, fate and God and everything else he believed in seemed to be working against him to prevent him from saving her.

He decided to go to the gas station to see if there were any videos from the night the prepaid was bought. While on the road, he got a call from Cam.

"Booth" he answered

"Seeley, the blood matches Amy's and the girls. Our killer put it in the bag, in some sort of pressurized tin, so that the bag would explode when the drawer was opened. It's pretty elementary stuff though, nothing that could link us to our killer."

"Thanks Cam, anything else?"

"Nope… how's Brennan? Any word on Max?"

"Nothing on Max just yet, I guess they haven't gotten to his apartment yet. And Bones…" he looked at her, then chuckled. "She's asleep."

"Good. She needs it. Try to let her sleep as much as you can, Seeley."

"Yeah. Thanks Cam. You guys keep doing your squint thing, see if anything turns up." And with that he hung up.

Brennan was still asleep when he pulled into the gas station, and after deciding that there was no harm that could come to her and knowing that he'd still be able to see the SUV from inside the store, he decided to let her sleep. Besides, there were several other people in the parking lot, so he figured someone would notice if anyone tried to kidnap her here. He shut off the car and went inside.

"Hey, are you the owner?" Booth asked a squirrely looking teen behind the counter, flashing his badge. The teen laughed.

"No, he's in the back, I'll go get him for you." Booth watched the SUV while he waited.

"How can I help the FBI today, Agent …?" A short Indian man said, wiping his hands on a cloth.

"Booth, I'm Special Agent Booth." Booth responded, taking the man's proffered hand. "I need to know when a phone with this number was sold, and I need to see the security tapes from that day."

"Let me look in the system, sir. This will just take a moment." The man went behind the counter and typed something in the computer. "Ah, here it is. That phone was sold two weeks ago to… oh, it was paid for in cash. I'm sorry, we don't have a name. Come with me and we'll get the tapes from that day. This says it was sold at 3pm."

With a worried glance at his SUV, he followed the man into a back room. The tape was found in a matter of minutes, and after buying coffee for him and his Bones, he went back out to the car.

"Looky what I got Bones, coffee to give you an extra little kick!" He grinned as he opened the SUV door. When he got no response, he reached over to shake her awake…

And his hand was met with empty space. She wasn't in her seat, or in any other seat in the car. Instead, a small back phone sat in her place, with a note on it.

_Looks like I won't be needing this anymore, doesn't it, Agent Booth?_

He felt his blood run cold as blind panic seized him. Picking up his phone to call Cullen, he was surprised to find it already ringing.

"Booth" he managed to choke out.

"Booth, it's Cullen. I have news from the team sent to Max's apartment. Sit down, you're not going to like this…"

***So, you guys tell me. Should Max be dead in his apartment, or should there just be a note, letting them know that he was kidnapped as well. Let me know. Whichever gets the most votes wins, but I'm not updating until I get 2 votes for each. (or, rather, two votes for one and three for the other, since the math works a little better on that one.


	7. Chapter 7

***Since I'm incredibly impatient I should have known better than to hold my story hostage for votes… especially since it was pretty unanimous…

…and flyingbouffont, you're my hero… you're also probably that kid who made other kids cry on the playground (so was I)… let's be best friends.

Now you all get to see how creepily evil I can be… so if you're not up for a little torture and rape, maybe don't read. Don't read the next chapter either. However, if you're only in this for the B/B fluff, wait for the next couple chapters, they should be good! ;-)***

"What is it sir?" Booth asked, almost whining, not sure he could handle any more bad news today.

"We couldn't find Max, but there were signs of a struggle in his apartment, Agent Booth. And a note saying that Joy would be next. Keep her close, Booth, we can't let him have the whole family together."

"Sir… I – I just went inside without her… I was only gone for a few minutes… when I got back out to the car, she was gone. He left the pre-paid."

"Booth, come to my office now. Use the siren and don't stop unless you have to. If he took Dr. Brennan right from under you, he had to have been tailing you all morning. I don't need him getting you too."

"Yes sir." Booth felt defeated as he turned on the engine and began driving off. There was a killer out there who had _his_ Bones. And so far, the evidence wasn't giving them any leads at all.

After reviewing the case, Cullen decided that it had to be someone who knew Max Keenan from his past life, back when he was into robbing banks and running with the wrong crowd. He got a list of the people Max could have pissed off when he left the group that he was with, but it turned up very few leads. Most of them were either in jail or dead, and very few had living relatives.

It was Hodgins who had the brilliant idea to see if they could get DNA off the phone and match it to anything and everything they had on Max's old gang buddies. They were looking for a DNA match close enough to be a brother, a cousin, even a cousin's uncle twice removed. Anything to lead them to Brennan.

That brought up only one lead. Andrew Delany was a man a decade younger than Max, whose brother had been killed in a police raid which was staged based on information Max gave the cops while he was in jail. Andrew himself had been believed dead for the past 4 years.

Booth read his file and almost cried. The man was a genius, maybe even as smart as Bones. He had three degrees already, all in fields related to ancient cultures in some way. As a PhD student, he'd written his dissertation on medieval torture methods.

Booth groaned. Just what they needed. A man who had no known address and a degree in torture. Perfect.

It was the cold that woke her up. She tried to sit up, but found she was tethered to a hard surface. A table, she guessed. She opened her eyes and tried to look around, but there was a collar securing her neck to the table as well, and there were blocks on either side of her head, preventing her from moving her head at all. And all she could tell from her vantage point was that the room she was in was made completely of concrete and there was a little light coming in from what might have been a small window in the door. There were things hanging from the ceiling, but she could not tell what they were… dried flowers, maybe? The one in the center was bigger than she was, and very oddly shaped. She was hoping it was that, but something told her to expect something a little more sadistic and painful.

She did what she was best at. Assed her situation rationally. She was gagged, and tethered down to a metal table. She felt restraints on her wrists, ankles, stomach, and neck, along with whatever blocks were squeezing her head. Said blocks were actually so tight that they were giving her a headache, but they didn't seem to be getting any tighter, so she hoped that would be a plus. The collar was also a little tight, just enough to make breathing difficult, and the remaining restraints were also tight enough to cause pain. She felt hazy, as if pushing through a fog. It was so cold, and her head hurt so badly. But she felt like she was missing something important, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't quite grasp what it was.

Then she heard a door open, and light flooded the room, illuminating the objects hanging from the ceiling. She struggled in fear, recognizing many medieval torture devices, including the pear of anguish, which she'd seen before in a case. But the thing that drew her attention was that large object in the center. It was a person, bound and laying on a hammock suspended about 5 feet above her head.

But it wasn't just any person. It was her father. And when he looked down at her, slightly embarrassed, but completely horrified, she realized what it was that she'd been missing.

She was completely naked. And now there was an unknown person in the room with them, a person that wanted them dead. And the "toys" hanging from the ceiling told her that he wasn't going to end this quickly.


	8. Chapter 8

*****So I'm trying this new thing, called "bold". It's where I put my authors notes in bold so you guys can distinguish. Previously I was putting lines under the AN and between sections of the story. Clearly that one hasn't been working out too well, and if anyone has any hints on making that happen, it'd be great.*****

*****also, in case anyone else was wondering… Booth was still in shock in the last chapter. That coupled with the fact that he blames himself for Brennan's disappearance, I figured he'd be a little more subdued and depressed than violent and angry. However, never fear, my little ducklings, violence and anger will come to those who wait… and nag me about it so I don't forget… and to anyone wondering why someone's DNA would be in the system when their fingerprints were not… stop wondering. This is my fic and in my own little world, dumb things happen. ;-)*****

Booth ran up the steps to the Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab.

"Guys, I need help. All the old cases, the ones where this fingerprint showed up, they're opened again. I need you to do your little squinty things to find out anything you can tell me about where the perp might have frequented. Use Amy & Russ and the girl's bodies… anything. Hodgins, do your bug and dirt stuff, if the dirt from their shoes is present in half the parks in DC, I want to know the exact location of that pile of dirt in those parks. Same goes for any chemicals, bugs, _anything_ you guys find. I want to know about all of it."

Zack started to say something about the unlikelihood of them catching a break that lucky, but Angela silenced him with a hand on his arm. "Booth, what's going on?" she looked around suspiciously. "Booth! Where's Brennan?"

Booth clenched his jaw so hard Angela was surprised his teeth didn't break. "He took her." He spat, and turned on his heal and left them to their stunned silence.

"Alright people," Cam whispered, still in shock. "Let's do this. We've got a colleague to find."

************************************

Brennan's head hut so badly that she could barely keep her eyes opened. All she wanted was for oblivion to take her, but he would not let her sleep. He just kept taunting Max while he touched her. Every part of her. The first two times he raped her, her treacherous body had actually reached climax. But after that, she was too tired to even feel him inside of her. He hadn't removed the tape from her mouth or from her father's and she doubted that he planned to. Whenever she made any noise, he punched her in the stomach, hard, and at the moment, she could feel sharp pains shooting through her arm from when he'd shaken her so violently that her wrist had snapped.

She heard a strange noise, one that was almost a hissing, and tried to look around to see what he was planning next.

"WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT MOVING, BITCH!" their captor shouted, seeing the movement. He was suddenly beside her, and punching her middle more violently than before. He seemed to have lost what little control he may have had, because he was no longer careful to punch where it wouldn't kill her. His blows showered her stomach and chest, and she felt several of her ribs snap, and when she let a tiny whimper escape her throat, his blows became more frantic, raining down on any part of her that he could reach. One punch broke her clavicle, another hit her jaw with so much force that she was surprised her neck hadn't broken.

Then, as suddenly as it had started, the beating stopped. Brennan opened her eyes, half hoping that someone had come to rescue her, but instead saw a long, sharp blade in front of her eyes. With a deft flick of his wrist, the tape over her mouth flew sideways.

"No, please don't kill me!" she whispered. She couldn't help it, the words just came out. She began to struggle against her bonds, trying anything to break them and get free. Then her eyes caught Max's and she could see a look there that she'd never seen. Complete terror. He began struggling as well, yelling through his gag.

The man looked up, and chuckled. "Oh, so you don't want me to kill her either? How sweet?" He reached up and ripped the tape from Max's mouth. "You don't want to see your pretty little girl die, Maxy-boy? How cute."

As the man taunted, he pressed the knife into Brennan's flesh, and drew a long line down the side of her face. Max struggled harder "NO! Leave her alone!"

"Will you give me something in return, Maxy?" the man's oily voice was making Brennan sick to her stomach. "A life for a life, perhaps?"

Max looked with sorrow at his only daughter, beaten almost beyond recognition. "You'll let her live? You promise me, on your brother's grave that you'll let her go and leave her alone?!" Max shouted.

The man seemed to think about this, then chuckled. "Seems fair to me, Maxy-boy"

Max looked at Brennan one last time. "I'm so sorry baby, I love you." He said, even as she tried desperately to shake her head against the blocks holding it in place. She was too stunned to speak.

The man grinned down at her and in one swift movement, sliced Max open, from his throat to his groin. Brennan screamed as her father's entrails spilled over her. The collar and the blocks by her head were removed, which proved to be a good thing, since the next thing she knew, she was twisted over the side of the table, heaving.

"Hahaha!" The man laughed evilly. "My name's Andrew, by the way." He told her on his way out.

"Wait, you said…" Brennan barely managed to whisper. All she wanted was to be at home, with Booth holding her.

Andrew stopped. "I know, but I'm not quite done with you yet. Besides, I just told you my name. I can't just let you go rat me out now. My mistake, I don't even know how that happened. Oh well. I guess I'll just have to kill you after all." He laughed gleefully as he slammed the door behind him.

Brennan was left to stare at her father's gutted body, his face fixed into a gruesome image of pain and resignation.

"Dad," she cried quietly. Then, with nothing else to say, she just repeated that word over and over until she fell asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Booth paced his office, angrily awaiting the results of his database search. He'd been looking for anything that might lead him to Brennan. The problem with the old cases, and even the new one, was that all the victims were found in their own homes. Though many of them were killed in a different area and then returned to their homes, there had never been enough left of the bodies to process. So no one knew where the killing ground might be. So far, all the women he'd killed were raped, drugged, and shot. The two men had been killed differently. Russ had been hanged, and the other guy, who supposedly had walked in while the perp returned his wife to their home, had been shot also.

That was the closest anyone had come to catching their murderer. That was also the last time he'd killed, excepting Russ and his family. That had happened roughly two years ago, a few weeks before a body, presumed to be Andrew Delany, had washed up on the shore of Charleston, SC. Booth had ordered said body be transported to the Jeffersonian so the squints could get what they could from it as well. Now all he could do was wait, and pace.

************************************

"Hello!" Hodgins exclaimed, looking at the results on his screen. He had found evidence of rust, gravel, dirt, cement, blood, and grass on the bodies. Nothing to rare or distinguishing. Until now. There was a flower embedded in one of the victim's wounds, and he'd decided to run it on a suspicion. Now his hard work was rewarded.

"You, my little miracle, are going to help us find Brennan." He said, as he dialed Booth's number.

************************************

"BOOTH!" Booth answered his phone, a little more loudly than he'd meant to.

"Booth, man, I found a flower here, a very rare one, on one of the bodies. It's called _Chionodoxa lochiae_. They're so rare that only one florist in town sells them, and she'd have to keep records of where the flowers went."

"The address, Hodgins?" Booth said, carrying his pen and paper with him out of the door.

"I got one better than that, Booth. Angela already called the lady who sells them, and she said that the only time in the past 15 years that anyone's bought that particular flower, it was a Girl Scout project to beautify that old closed down prison off the old highway."

"Good work" Booth said, as he hung up the phone. He knew how to get to the prison. He cursed, realizing that the drive to the site would take two hours even if he sped the whole way. Two more hours for that guy to do God-knows what to his Bones.

He checked to make sure his gun had plenty of bullets.

************************************

Brennan awoke to a sharp pain in her thigh. Andrew snickered as she groaned, brought the whip down on her legs a second time. He continued this treatment all up and down the front of her legs, and when he was done with that and Brennan was far too weak to fight back, he removed her restraints and rolled her over, exposing the unmarred flesh of her back. She weakly lifted her head and watched him come around and tie her hands to the legs of the table, making sure she was secured. Then he put his whip away, and picked up the knife again.

She watched with growing trepidation as he held the knife to a flame until the blade was red. Then he walked over to her helpless form, and gently touched the flat of the blade to her shoulder. The pain and the scent of burning flesh left her gagging and gasping for air, but he had no compassion for her. He continued this treatment, heating the blade until it was hot, then burning her flesh with it. The fifth time she screamed and he grabbed her hair, pulling her head up.

"SHUT UP!" he yelled in her ear, and slammed her face back onto the table. Brennan whimpered, but didn't scream again. She tried to silently recite the bones of the hands and feet to take her mind off the ever-growing pain in her body, but suddenly her bonds were cut and she was flipped over again, breaking her concentration. She tried to curl into a ball as blows rained down on her face and chest.

Finally her abused body couldn't take it anymore and she was swallowed by the cold darkness.


	10. Chapter 10

Booth pulled into the parking lot of the abandoned prison, and looked around, cursing himself for not calling the back up sooner. He'd called Cullen after driving for about half an hour, so a team of FBI agents and cops were about 45 minutes behind him. He didn't want to wait, he wanted to go in and find his Bones now, but as he looked around her felt defeat settle over him again. The building in front of him was just so big. How was he going to find her in time? He decided to go in anyway.

************************************

By the time the other agents arrived, Booth had searched the top two levels of the prison. There were still three more to go, and he was getting more frustrated and panicked by the second. An agent named Oliver approached him and asked for orders. Booth took 5 agents to the basement, and the rest split up into groups to search the remaining floors.

************************************

Even after unconsciousness took her, Andrew continued beating Brennan. Even when her face was swollen and bloody and her entire body was one big bruise, he continued to hit her. Then she fell off the table, forcing him to take a break. He thought about putting her back on the table, but decided he didn't care anymore. And then he saw her eyes looking up at him, the fear in them making his cock twitch with need. He pulled off his pants and dropped down on top of her.

************************************

The fall woke Brennan up and immediately the pain in her body caused her to gag. Then she realized she was lying on the floor, and before she could do more than look up at him in fear, Andrew was inside her, thrusting more forcefully than he'd ever thrust before.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing it all to be a dream. But when she opened them, he was still there, still thrusting. Suddenly she was very very angry. "Booth will kill you!" she spat.

This stopped him. He rested his elbows on her bruised chest, then his head on his hands. "Oh dear. It seems I've forgotten to inform you. Agent Booth can't come for you, Joy. He's already dead. How else do you think I managed to kidnap you? Do you think he'd let me do it if he were alive?" He laughed coldly. "My poor dear. Thinking there was still someone out there to rescue her."

As Temperance Brennan lay there, trying to hold on to the pieces of her mind, he continued to thrust into her.

"Dead…" she whispered. And suddenly she didn't care whether or not Andrew killed her.

************************************

Booth ran down hall after hall in the prison basement. The walls were lined with cells. Not normal cells; the cells that were made completely of cement and had a steel door 5 inches thick. This was where the worst inmates had been kept. The ones who were a risk even unarmed.

Booth hurried around the next corner, sighing. He _would_ find her in time.

************************************

"Dead… he's… dead…" Brennan mused again. Despite her numerous cuts, scrapes, burns, and broken bones, she felt numb.

But her reaction made Andrew very upset. "You're MINE!" He yelled. "Look at ME!"

She barely felt his hands around her throat, but her lungs were acutely aware of the lack of oxygen.

This jerked her out of her stupor, bringing her back to the reality that she was lying, naked and bruised on the floor, being raped and strangled. With the little strength left in her, she began to struggle, but it wasn't enough and she could see dark spots beginning to form in her vision.

************************************

Booth rounded the last corner, and saw something that made his heart jump in his chest. There was a light coming from the tiny window in one of the doors at the end of the hall. He started running faster, motioning the guys behind him to be silent, not that they weren't already. As he approached the door he heard a muffled voice yell "You're MINE! Look at ME!"

Before anyone, including himself, could stop him, Booth busted into the room, and shot the man who was on top of Brennan.

************************************

Brennan knew she wasn't going to last much longer. She stopped fighting him and closed her eyes, waiting for the darkness to sweep her under, but suddenly Andrew slumped down on top of her, and his hands fell away from her neck. She waited to feel the tensing of muscles that would signify his release, but instead she felt warm blood start to flood her mouth and nose. Not her blood. His blood.

And then, miraculously, Booth was there, pulling Andrew's body off of her, and covering her shaking body with his jacket.

"I'm here Temperance. I'm here." He whispered. And then the EMT's who had been waiting outside were called in and all Brennan could see was unfamiliar faces as they pushed Booth out of the way to work on her.

"No. Booth, come back, Booth!" she whimpered. "No don't leave me, take me with you. Don't make me do this without you."

But he didn't come back. She thought she heard his voice from far away, but she was so tired, and everything hurt.

Again, she let the darkness take her.

************************************

Booth watched as the paramedics tried to get a line in to give her fluids. She seemed so small, lying there on the floor. And as they lifted her, she began to whine.

"No. Booth, come back, Booth!" she whimpered. "No don't leave me, take me with you. Don't make me do this without you."

Her words stunned him, but only for a second. "I'm right here, Bones, I'm not going anywhere." He told her as she slipped into unconsciousness. Then to the EMT, "I'm riding."

"But sir…"

"I'm riding!"

And then they were on there way.


	11. Chapter 11

Sorry it's been so long kids… blame my muse… as soon as I get into a story, it decides to rebel… but I think it may be back… so let me know how this chapter is… if I hate it, and it sucks, I'll rewrite it another time.

Two hours later, Booth paced the floor of the hospital waiting room, smirking angrily as he realized the irony in this. He'd finally found her, and now that he knew without a doubt that Andrew would never touch her again, he was still stuck doing the same thing he was doing before they even knew who Andrew was. Pacing.

He wanted to punch something, but knew that would get him kicked out of the hospital. He really wanted to be at the gym right now, but he wanted to be with his Bones even more. In truth, if it had been anyone other than Brennan who he was waiting for, he would be in the gym, punching a bag until his arms were so sore that he couldn't even lift them. Well, unless it was Parker, he amended his thought. Sighing inwardly, he folded his arms and balled his hands into fists to prevent himself from punching the concrete wall beside him.

A woman in scrubs walked out and called "Family of Temperance Brennan?"

He jerked his head up at the voice that suddenly interrupted his thoughts. "Me. I'm her partner. And her medical proxy."

"And I'm Dr. Lang," The woman said. "Your partner just got out of surgery. She had a concussion, three broken ribs, a broken clavicle, a ruptured spleen, lacerations to her liver, a broken wrist, dislocated shoulder, a minor fracture to her jaw, a broken leg, more cuts than we could count, and just about every inch of her is a bruise. Though we hope she will wake up soon, it is hard to say. We don't know if she suffered any lasting brain damage, and even when she does wake up, the pain may be too much for her to handle. We may just opt to keep her sedated once we make sure there's no severe brain damage."

"Where is she? Can I see her?" Booth asked frantically.

"She's in the ICU right now. I'll take you there. It will be good for her to have a familiar face there when she wakes up. But you need to be careful with her. She was raped. And beaten. Her body will heal, but we don't know what her mental state is at the moment. Just let her know that you're there for her, no matter what happened to her, and that she's safe now. Let her take the lead as far as conversation goes. And if she starts to get agitated, press the call button on her bed, because we simply can't let her blood pressure go up that much. It's dangerous for her heart after the surgery. Don't push her if she seems to not want to talk about something. Understood?"

Booth gulped and nodded, praying that the doctor was just over-reacting, wishing that this was all just a nightmare. That he could just pinch himself awake and his Bones would be in her lab, looking at skeletons and forgetting to eat or sleep, instead of lying in Bethesda ICU.

But one look at the woman in the room he was lead to told him otherwise. She was attached to more machines than he'd ever seen in his life, and her face was so bruised and swollen that he wasn't sure it was really his Bones lying there. He looked at Dr. Lang, who seemed to read his question in his eyes. She nodded. "That's her. I promise. Don't let her know that you couldn't even recognize her. It may upset her."

He turned back to the woman lying in bed and took a seat in the chair beside her bed. Taking out his phone, he sat back and dialed Angela's cell.

Angela was frantic. She knew they'd found her friend, but that was all she knew. Well, she also knew that Brennan hadn't been dead when they found her, but she had no idea how she was currently. She'd spent the last two hours pacing Hodgins's living room and ranting about people who thought it was okay to kidnap and torture her friends. Hodgins had given up trying to get her to sit down hours ago, and had resigned himself to sitting on his couch and watching his distraught fiancé. Under any other circumstances, the things she said would have been comical, but now he doubted anything would make him laugh. He'd known Brennan for several years, and despite his initial reservations about the quiet, socially awkward genius who had become his boss nearly eight years ago, he'd grown to respect and love her.

Angela's rant was interrupted by the sound of her cell ringing, and before Hodgins had even registered that the sound was indeed a phone, Angela had answered the call with a panicked "Oh God, please tell me that she's okay."

Hodgins couldn't hear the other end of the conversation, but he knew that the news couldn't be good based on the way Angela dropped into the chair beside him. "Oh my God. Booth, is she up to us visiting her? I just need to know that she's still breathing. I have to see it for myself." After a moment, she hung up the phone and grabbed her purse. "We're going to the hospital," she told her fiancé, and he grabbed his keys and followed her to the car.

The first thing she was aware of was the pain. Then, as she became more lucid, she realized there was something in her throat, making it hard for her to breathe. She coughed and gagged, trying to get it out, but when that didn't work, she tried to tug at it. But there was someone pulling her hands away from her mouth, pinning her arms down, and there was a voice telling her to stop fighting, but she didn't even know what was going on anymore. Everything hurt, and if she didn't get some air soon, she knew she wouldn't survive. So she fought against her captor with all the strength she had left, but it wasn't enough, and soon the arms holding hers down had pulled her up and wrapped her in a bear hug.

Wait. A hug? And not just a restraining hug either. A comforting one. And she knew those arms. They were the same ones that held her whenever she was scared. Booth. Booth was here, holding her. It was impossible. Booth was dead. But somehow, his arms were wrapped tight around her, it was his chest her head rested on, and his thumb stroking the side of her neck. She felt herself relaxing into him, and closed her tired eyes again. They weren't doing her much good anyway, she reasoned. She could barely open them at all, and as a result all she could see were blurry blocks of color. Sighing, she snuggled into her partner and obeyed his command to let the tube sticking down her throat breathe for her.

Booth had moved his chair as close as possible to Brennan's bed, so that he would be the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes. After his phone call with Angela, he didn't have to wait long. She began to struggle with her breathing tube as she awoke, and Booth had to take both of her arms and pin them gently to the bed. "Bones!" he said forcefully, trying to snap her out of it. But she just continued to struggle against him, trying to sit up and pull out the tube down her throat. "BONES!" he practically yelled, trying desperately to get her attention. "Bones, it's alright, you're safe. It's Booth, I'm here. Bones, STOP FIGHTING!" Her breaths were coming out in pained gasps as she tried to fight the machine that was breathing for her. He pulled her into a bear hug and started stroking her neck, trying to sooth her.

Suddenly, he felt something change. Her shoulders relaxed, and she stopped struggling, though she still had some trouble with the tube down her throat. "Shh, Bones, just relax. Let it breathe for you. Wait for the nurses to come and take care of it." Booth finally remembered the doctor's orders and hit the call button, then continued rocking her back and forth while he waited for the nurses to come help her.

Good? Bad? Should I rewrite this? Lemme know kids!


	12. Chapter 12

***** Alright, my ducks. I forgot to mention a timeline in this story so far, although I meant to. Despite the team's best efforts, Brennan was with Andrew for almost 72 hours (that's 3 days for the kids who don't like math). She was kidnapped in the morning, and beaten and raped all that day, through that night and the next day. At the end of that day, Andrew killed her father, and left her alone that entire night. The following day, he spent more time alternating between torture and ignoring her, and then he got shot, everyone's favorite part, I'm sure. So let's go with three days… now that I've forgotten why that was so important. Sigh.*****

*****Plus a shout out to flyingbouffont for telling me to try downloading OpenOffice since has an apparent agenda against DocX files... downloading it now, and hoping it will work later*****

*****You guys can thank **CSigurlie07 **for telling me to copy and paste the new chapter in an old document, since I was too impatient to wait for OpenOffice to finish downloading*****

Instead of the nurses that he had expected, a young male doctor came rushing into Brennan's room and when he saw that Brennan was awake, he gently lowered the anthropologist back onto the bed and removed the breathing tube, quickly replacing it with an oxygen mask. Booth sighed with relief, thinking that they would actually let him talk to his Bones for a bit before knocking her out again, but this was not the case. The doctor explained Brennan's situation to her, in painfully minute detail. After what seemed like an hour of this, Brennan was struggling to keep her eyes open and had yet to say a word. And booth was ready to kill the doctor for not just giving her some painkillers and leaving her to sleep. He moved to stroke Brennan's hand, and when he saw her wince at the contact, whether from fear or pain, he decided enough was enough.

"Excuse me, couldn't this wait? She's in pain! Give her something!" He said a little harsher than he'd intended, but it got the desired effect so he decided not to dwell on it. The young man nodded and left the room, coming back after just a second with a syringe of clear liquid. He injected it into Brennan's IV and told them that he'd order a morphine drip for her so that in the future she could control the pain herself. Booth only nodded gratefully and Brennan simply stared into space, already feeling the effects of the strong drug.

Booth contemplated leaving her alone, now that she knew she was safe, not because he wanted to, but because he wasn't sure what would be better for her. She seemed to be fighting the drugs, trying to stay awake, and he decided this was because he was there, but decided differently when he stood up and she turned to him with terror-filled eyes. "I'm just going to the bathroom, Bones… here, I'll wait till you're asleep. And then I promise I'll come right back. Okay?"

She didn't really respond, but the fear in her eyes dissipated, so he sat back down beside her. Even with him there, though, she seemed to be fighting sleep. "Bones, you have to rest," he told her, taking her hand in his gently and wishing, not for the first time, that he could read her mind. "What's going on in that head of yours, Bones?"

She opened her mouth to speak, to tell him that she was scared that if she went to sleep she'd wake up back in the prison basement, strapped to the table, looking up at her father's gutted corpse again. But as she opened her mouth, the drugs stole the thought away from her mind and all thoughts went spinning just out of reach. She couldn't force her eyes open anymore, and finally succumbed to the darkness that took her pain away.

**********************************

Booth returned from the bathroom and sat back down beside her, again marveling at the difference between this scenario and any similar ones involving different people. If it was anyone other than Bones lying in the bed before him, he would have gone home and changed into clean clothes. He would have remembered to bring a book or a movie with him to occupy his time. But suddenly he found himself more than content to simply stare at the green writing on the machine opposite him, spelling out just how fragile his partner's heart really was. He didn't know how long he sat there, staring at the heart monitor, until his thoughts were interrupted by a very distraught Angela rushing into the room.

"Oh my God, Bren!" she whispered, tears in her eyes. "Booth, what happened? What did that asshole do to her?" her eyes never left the unmoving form of her best friend. Hodgins followed her into the room and gasped upon seeing his boss. "Yeah, what _did_ he do?" he asked, already snapping the rubber band around his wrist.

Booth threw a glance at his sleeping partner, torn between stepping outside to explain so they didn't wake her and the desire to never let her out of his sight again, as long as he lived. Remembering what had happened last time he left her alone to let her sleep, he compromised by ushering the two squints to the opposite corner of the room before explaining in hushed tones everything he'd been told. By the time he was done, Angela was openly sobbing into Jack's shoulder, and Jack's lips were pressed together so tightly in rage that he didn't seem to have a mouth.

Seeing Hodgins' rage seemed to reawaken his own, and he wished again that he had not killed Andrew for the simple reason that he now wanted to torture the man just as his Bones had been tortured, for three horrible days. He wanted to do things to this man that he'd never wanted to do before, horrible things that he was sure meant he needed therapy, but at the moment he just didn't care. All he cared about was his Bones, lying weak and frail as a baby bird in the hospital bed. Death was too good for that man, but at the time it had been the only option. This thought brought his eyes to the dark bruises on her thin neck, and he set his jaw in anger.

"Booth?" Angela asked hesitantly "Do you mind if we stay? At least until she wakes up… I just… I want to… need to…" she faltered.

"Of course. There are chairs in the hall. Stay." He responded, knowing from experience how his friends were feeling.

So they all sat around their beloved Brennan, and waited, until, one by one, they all drifted into an uneasy sleep.

And by the time Brennan began to toss, fighting against her invisible demons, they were all asleep. And there was no one to see her erratic movements pull the needles out of her arm and the oxygen mask off her face.

**********************************

Brennan felt as if she was swimming through thick honey, trying in vain to reach the top. The air was so heavy she couldn't get any into her tired lungs. The pain was quickly becoming unbearable, and she tried to cry out, but no sound came from her lips, and finally the thickness of the air didn't matter anymore because she was no longer struggling to breathe it. Her body went limp as her heart rate plummeted and the machines beside her started beeping their frenzied warning.


	13. Chapter 13

***** Well, I mean, I was planning on just letting her die, but since you insisted… just kidding… I would never kill off Brennan… (now read my other story… where I kill her off… lol) **

**The nurses don't come running the moment a patient starts thrashing unless said thrashing raises or lowers the heart rate to a dangerous level… in this chapter we will learn that "frenzied warning" does not translate as "flat-lined" that's really more of a continuous whine anyway…**

**On a side note, I decided to climb onto the roof of the gym tonight with some friends (there was no drinking involved, though I'm not sure if it would be better for myself if I claimed there was) and fell about 10 feet, breaking my arm… so if this chapter is not up to par, blame the pain meds… (though I don't blame them, they make me feel very happy)*****

*****************************

Booth woke up to the sound of yelling

"Get the paddles, she's crashing!"

"Charge to 300!"

And Booth's eyes flew open in time to see his partner's body leap off the bed as she was shocked. The heart monitor still emitted a high pitched whine. "Charge to 400!"

Booth realized what was happening and his eyes met Angela's across the room. All they could do was stare at each other as they waited for the doctor's magic machines to shock their friend back to life.

"500!" Another shock, and the monitor beat a steady rhythm.

"I've got a pulse, but no respiration, we've got to re-intubate!" the young doctor from earlier shouted, already moving to push the tube down Brennan's throat, but just as he put the guider to her lips, he body shook with the feeble effort to drag the heavy air into her lungs. The young man decided instead to attach another mask to her face, this one without holes on the sides. Not knowing why it mattered so much to him, he asked the doctor what had been wrong with the previous mask and was informed that this one would force air into her lung if she stopped breathing again. The doctor must have seen the fear he was trying to quell, because he smiled gently and explained non-invasive ventilation to the trio sitting in terrified silence. He informed them that this new machine would let her breathe on her own, but force her to breathe if she stopped again. Then, after taking a quick reading of Brennan's vitals, and making some notes on her chart, he was gone.

They remained in stunned silence for a while, then Angela whispered "I'm sorry, I can't –" and fled from the room. Hodgins shrugged apologetically at Booth and followed her.

"Oh Bones," Booth said tearfully. "I don't know how many more scares like that we can take. Please stay with us. Don't go somewhere I can't bring you back from."

He reclaimed her hand and pressed a kiss to her bruised cheek, and again waited. But this time he pinched himself every few minutes to make sure he didn't fall back asleep, in case she needed him again.

**********************************

Her chest was so tight. It hurt. Everything hurt. But the air was no longer impossible to breathe, and this encouraged her. She opened her eyes, confused when she couldn't see anything. Why was it so dark? Why wasn't she in her own bed, at home? And what was that hanging above her, writhing in the dark? Suddenly the lights cut on and she came face to face with the squirming body of her father. She tried to call out to him, but the sight of his bloody intestines dripping onto her own stomach stole her breath and made the bile rise in her throat.

Her lips formed the words that her mind was screaming, but still no sound came from her mouth, and she began to struggle against her bonds when suddenly the man above her turned from her father to Booth and then a laughing skeleton wielding a knife, and breaking from its bonds to climb on top of her and stab her –

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" she cried, shooting up in her hospital bed, still fighting the demons that no one else could see, only half conscious.

Strong arms wrapped around her thin shaking shoulders and pulled her into a solid chest, which she fought with all her strength, lashing out at Booth like a wild animal.

"Bones! It's me, Booth, you're safe now. Temperance!"

But nothing could calm her and he could only hold her slim body tightly to his so that she didn't hurt herself flailing about as she was. Sighing, he pressed the button on her morphine pump, hoping to increase her dose by just enough to calm her down. After a few seconds her frenzied movements faded away and she slumped against his chest, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Bones?" Booth inquired gently, after a few moments.

He felt her shift as if to lift her head, then realized that she was too weak to do even that on her own. He pulled her back a little, not entirely surprised that her violent outburst had weakened her so much, but at the same time wishing it hadn't.

She looked at him, her eyes seeming wide with fear despite the fact that they were both swollen almost shut, and tried to say something, but he couldn't make it out through the mask. She lifted her hand to pull it off, but he quickly grabbed her hand away and shook his head.

"I know you're probably full of questions and I know you hate this, but you need to leave that thing on, okay? Whatever it is you want to ask me can wait until you're a little better, honey."

In true Brennan style, she yanked her hands away and ripped the mask off anyway. "You're dead… he told me… you're not real… are you?"

The last was whispered breathily as she tried to draw the too-heavy air into her lungs, and she began to sob yet again.

Booth grabbed the mask from her and pressed it back to her face, worry lining his face. "Bones, I told you, you're not ready to breathe on your own yet. Just quit being so stubborn all the time." But his admonition was made in a gentle loving tone. "He really told you I was dead? Oh Bones."

He pulled her up gently and moved to sit so that he was leaning against the pillows and she against him, careful not to touch any of the machines and IVs attached to her. It was a task that made him painfully aware of how many wires his partner currently needed. He sat with her and stroked her hair away from her face, murmuring small words of comfort and assuring her that he was real and not going anywhere.

She just looked up at him, clutching to his shirt like a drowning man clutches a life jacket, and maybe she was drowning, he thought, maybe her own tears were going to kill her, unless he found a way to keep the waters from rising any more, a way to keep her sane while she dealt with the aftermath.

A way to be her life preserver.

*****************************

***Also let me know if I need to wait to rewrite this one... you know, so I can write it when I'm not high on vicoden or whatever the hell the doctors gave me***


	14. Chapter 14

***** I think Hodgins calls Booth "B-man" sometimes, but I'm not sure. If it's something else, please correct me. If he doesn't call him nicknames, then put it down to my drugs and artistic license. I decided to make this chapter a little more upbeat than the others, but I think I may have sacrificed some fluff in the process. Sorry.**

**Oh, and in regards to the rumors going around that I am in fact, NOT Superman… Don't you oppress me! ;-)*** **

Later that night, Booth called Hodgins to let him know that it was safe to bring Angela by. Brennan had been doing much better as the day wore on, and she'd even managed to graduate from artificial respiration to the normal oxygen mask again. After her breakdown that morning, she'd slept until dinnertime. Her doctor wanted her to try eating solid foods again, but the smell had made her feel sick so they'd decided to put it off another day.

Booth was feeding her ice chips when Angela came in.

"Bren," she said, pushing back the tears that filled her eyes. "How do you feel? Do you need anything from your house? Do you want me to get you something to eat? Have you had –"

Booth cut in "Ange, calm down, try not to ask more than ten thousand questions at a time,"

Angela looked as if she'd noticed Booth there for the first time. "You… this is girl talk time… leave! You too, Jack… give us some time to talk about clothes and boys and things," she shooed them out of the room.

At first Booth protested, but Hodgins put a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, B-man. Ange won't leave the room. Let's just go get some dinner, then we'll come back."

Booth nodded and followed the scientist out of the room.

********************************

"So, how are you, sweetie?" Angela asked again.

Brennan looked at her for a minute before answering. "I'm not in a lot of pain, thanks to the meds," she finally said "But if I have to endure one more day here I'm going to go crazy. They won't even let me out of bed to shower!"

A tin smile played across Angela's lips. "Sweetie, I don't know if anyone's told you this yet, but you were beaten up pretty bad. I think letting you stand up right now would be classified as criminal negligence."

Brennan smiled at her friend, the first smile in days, but then Angela was all business again.

"And I wasn't asking about your physical condition, Bren. I mean how are you handling this? And don't you dare tell me you're fine and give me some BS about compartmentalizing, because no one can compartmentalize that well, not even you."

Brennan's protest died on her lips. She sighed. "I honestly don't know how I feel, Ange. It's just been… too much… I know I should feel upset about it, but I just feel numb." She finally admitted, turning her face away from her friend. She knew she wasn't being entirely truthful, but she wasn't ready to admit to the one thing she did feel.

"There's more," Angela murmured, leaning across the bed so that her face was next to Brennan's and their noses were almost touching.

Brennan closed her eyes, still not willing to say it.

"Sweetie, you don't have to hide from me. You can say it. I already know what it is… but you need to admit it."

"I'm scared, Ange. All the time. I know he's dead, but all I can think of is that he'll find some way to get me back, and then the nightmare will start all over again. I don't think I can survive that again. I almost wish I hadn't survived it this time!" she took a shaky breath. "And I'm scared to sleep, because what if I wake up and this was all a dream, or what if I wake up and he's caught me again? It's completely irrational, and I hate it! But the worst is when I wake up, because I've had a nightmare, and Booth is trying to help me, but I can't tell it's him. I always lash out, I always see Andrew's face instead of Booth's. And the nightmares are terrible – the dreams I had after the Gravedigger buried Hodgins and I – those were nothing compared to these. I just don't know what to do!"

"That's okay, Bren. Try talking to us. I'm here, and you know Booth is. Talk about what happened when you were locked in the prison. You don't have to tell me, and you don't have to do it now, but you need to do it sometime. Hell, even talking to Sweets might not be a bad idea! But sweetie, you can't make it through this by ignoring it and hoping it will go away. You've join the real world again sometime, sweetie."

"You know how I feel about psychology! And how I feel about Sweets!" Brennan tried, hoping to lighten the mood or change the subject – anything to keep her from thinking about what would happen after she left the hospital. Sure she wanted to leave, in fact, she was desperate to. She figured that getting back to her normal routine would help her cope. But deep down, she knew that in reality, she was just hoping to lose herself in her work so that she could forget about Russ and her father and the days she'd spent being raped and tortured by Andrew.

"You can't do that this time, Bren. This isn't the first time I've told you to quit burying your feelings in thousand year old skeletons."

"Ange, I don't know what that means," the anthropologist whined. Angela was now sitting on the bed beside Brennan, holding her hand and stroking it gently. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears again, but she didn't let herself cry; instead she continued to stroke Brennan's hand as they sat in silence.

"Yes you do," she finally responded. "You know too well what it means. And this time, we're not going to let you do this to yourself. When you get scared, or angry or sad, or any other emotion that I'm leaving out, I want you to talk to Booth. And if you can't, talk to me. But don't keep it bottled up inside of you."

Slowly Brennan nodded, and was rewarded with a grin that would rival the Cheshire cat's.

"I'll try" she said.


	15. Chapter 15

*****Thanks for your patience… although, I guess you didn't really have much choice, since I'm the one writing the story… I had to go find a better Superman suit, since my last one got torn and I'm told that the fact I wasn't wearing it is the cause of my pain.*****

That night Booth slept in the chair beside Brennan's bed. Well, slept was a relative term. It was more like he sat there with his eyes closed, listening to her gentle breathing, ready to shake her awake at the first sign of a bad dream. He knew she didn't put much – or indeed _any_ – stock in psychology, but he believed just enough of it to worry about her current mental state.

He reminded himself for the millionth time that no one was good enough to compartmentalize _this_ as she moaned quietly in her sleep.

Booth shot up and placed a hand on her arm. "Bones," he whispered, but she started thrashing about and crying painfully. The sound was breaking his heart. He drew her up into his arms and held her to his chest, calling her name again.

She awoke with a small shriek, and after a moment's struggle she settled into Booth, holding him as if she was trying to occupy the same space he was.

*********************

_She was lying on a table, hands and feet tied down and useless. Her father was hanging above her, and then the man walked in._

_What happened next was a blur, but suddenly her father was dead, slit from throat to groin, and she was looking into his lifeless eyes._

"_NO! NONONONONONO!" she cried, as hands closed around her and trapped her to a warm body…_

"Bones! It's Booth, you're safe now, I've got you," a familiar voice broke through her terror and she grabbed Booth's jacket in her hand, pressing her whole body into him as much as she could. She still couldn't think, all she knew was that the closer she was to the warm chest beside her, the safer she would be. She sobbed into his shirt for several minutes, until the air became heavy again and Booth turned her just enough to replace her oxygen mask.

He held her tight as he dared and stroked her back, whispering soothing meaningless words to her.

Finally she seemed to calm, and he let himself slide down into a more comfortable position, bringing her with him. At first, he just lay there, trying to think of a way to say what he knew he had to say. He picked up her good hand and stroked her wrist just as he was stroking her neck. "Bones," he began, "tell me what happened. Tell me what he did to you."

He heard her sharp gasp and then nothing but a deafening silence. He cringed, thinking she was going to throw him out, but instead she inhaled deeply and started talking.

"I woke up in a stone room… it was so so cold, and I wasn't wearing anything. When Andrew came in and turned on the light, I could see my father hanging above me… then he raped me and beat me. A lot. I think he broke most of my bones. Then he acted like he was going to kill me, but my father told him not to… he said to kill him instead… so Andrew… he… he killed… Andrew… killed my…" she broke off, sobbing again. Booth kissed the top of her head and curled up around her, trying to cover as much of her with himself as he could. But he didn't tell her that she could stop, knowing that if he did, she would take the out and keep everything bottled up inside of her. And that would hurt her more in the end.

"He gutted my father in front of me, then made me lay there covered in his blood for hours! He promised Max he'd let me go, but he didn't, he just made me stay there in that horrible place! Booth!" she sobbed, "Don't let me go! Please don't let me go!"

"Never, Bones," he told her. "I will never let you go, not as long as I live."

Then he continued to hold her, stroking her neck and wrist until they both fell asleep.


End file.
